A Birthday Like No Other
by KiwiStar
Summary: It's Matt Hardy's birthday and as with every other birthday, the chances of this running smoothly are slim to none...


**This is just a oneshot just for fun, lol. It's about Matt's Birthday, which was yesterday, but whatever....lol. Violet Pierce belongs to Edgeismyhero1217. I own Isabella. Read and review, please**

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A Birthday Like No Other

CM Punk peeked out from behind the corner he was hiding behind. So far, the object of his mission was standing a few yards away, chatting idly with Glenn, his opponent for WWE Superstars. He quickly pulled his head back and pulled out his cell phone, it was almost time. Again, he carefully peeked out, but Matt had begun walking down the hall. Glenn glanced at them and shrugged. Punk motioned for the Big Red Machine to follow the elder Hardy. The Big Red Machine rolled his eyes and walked down the hall.

Sighing, he stepped into the empty hallway, running a hand through his raven locks. "Hey, Punk! Punk, Punk, Punk! Hey, Punk!" At the repeated calling of his name, Punk turned around and ran straight into John Hennigan, known around the watering-hole as John Morrison. CM Punk scowled at the younger man and gave him a very heel-Punk-like glare. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"We have _everything_ set up!"

"Great. Anything else?"

"Yeah, the girls went to go get ready."

"Where are the guys?" He asked, getting slightly worried.

"In the room."

"Alone? Who decorated?"

"Yes, and Mark and Glenn." John informed.

"The Brother's of _Destruction_ decorated for a birthday?" Punk rolled his eyes as they walked to the said room.

"You know, if you want to ever be a face again, I'd keep the heartlessness _inside_ the ring." John rolled his own eyes as he pushed the door open to a locker room. "Besides, I think the guys will be fi….ne." John looked around the room. "Or maybe not."

The room was a disaster. Streamers were torn and hanging lifelessly from the ceiling. A sign that read "Happy Birthday Matt" was torn and fluttering in the breeze. Confetti caked the floor so badly that it was more like sand. All of the balloons were either popped and lying among the silver confetti, or were without any ribbon and up at the ceiling, which was even to high for Dalip, if he were to use a ladder. "Perfect! Fantastic!" Punk threw his hands up in frustration.

"Really? I knew we did a better job than Mark and Glenn."

"He was being sarcastic." Another man stated. Punk glanced at the committees of the crime and shook his head.

"I should've known." Punk ran his hand through his hair. Shane, Shannon, Jay, Adam, and Chris sat around the mess of a room. Adam was seated on a long table, injured leg outstretched next to him while his crutches were balanced precariously against the table. He had a kazoo peeking put between his lips and he was playing a little tune until Punk burst in.

Shane was the one that had told Chris of the sarcasm and was sitting on a chair, running his hands over his face. "I tried, I really did."

"So did I." Shannon shrugged. "It was _all_ Canadian on this one."

"I'm American, thank you very much." Chris stated, matter-of-factly.

"Oooh, oohhh, I'm Canadian!" Adam laughed.

"And it shows." Punk growled under his breath, just as Taker and Kane walked in.

The two gasped in horror and Glenn slowly covered his mouth as his eyes got watery. "My…MASTERPIECE!" He fell to his knees as he wailed.

Chris Masters popped his head in. "Is somebody lookin' for me?"

"NO!" They all shouted to the Bubonic Butt, Masters shrugged and left.

"Matt's supposed to get here in ten minutes and my masterpiece is…ruined!" Kane sobbed as Mark rubbed the man's back and glared at the younger men.

"Who did this?" His booming voice asked.

Slowly, John, Punk, Shane, and Shannon slid back and pointed to three Canadians, or two Canadians and one American, or three majorly screwed idiots, whichever way you preferred to look at it. Mark and Glenn stood to full height and our three blond friends cowered down beneath their shadows. Mark grabbed Adam and Jay by the throat and Kane got Chris by his throat. "Why does it always come down to you, Copeland?"

"I-I guess….I-I'm j-just….lucky….th-that ….w-w-way." Adam wheezed.

"Um, Mister Undertaker and Kane, sir. Um, I'd like to request one thing before you kill us." Jay stated.

"What do you want?" Mark asked, annoyed.

"Um, please don't horribly mangle my body to the point where it's an unrecognizable mess. I mean strangling's okay, just no bullets or gashes. Oooh, and please don't twist me up into a pretzel. Or castrate me for that matter..."

"Jay, stop giving them ideas!" Chris whispered as Isabella and Violet walked in

"What's going on in here?" Violet asked.

"Adam, Jay, and Chris are going to get killed." Punk replied.

"Oh." Both Divas replied, nodding quietly. Shannon and Shane moved to stand behind the two, even though they towered over them. "Guys, we're not exactly the best people to hide behind."

"You're for the shrapnel."

"Well, thanks, Shannon. I love you, too."

"Really?" Shannon's face lit up. "I love you too, Izzy!"

"She was being sarcastic, Shannon." Violet rolled her eyes.

Shannon scowled. "What is it with you people and sarcasm today?"

"Um…hello?" A new voice asked and they all turned to see Matt standing there, looking confused.

"Uh…surprise?" John asked as he sucked in a deep breath of helium, making his voice rise to 'chipmunk' level. Suddenly, he dropped to the floor at Matt's feet, laughing as he sucked some more and looked up.

"Surprise indeed." Matt nodded.

"Happy birthday, Matty." John laughed some more.

"Thanks, John." Matt smiled as he entered the room, tripping on John as John grabbed his ankle. The birthday boy fell face first into a mound of confetti. Standing up, his face was silvery and as he sputtered silver flakes and shook them out of his hair, he glared.

"Um, let's just skip the party and go straight to the cake." Violet said cheerfully as she moved to the mini-fridge in the corner. Suddenly, her face went stone cold. Drawing out the cake, she sent a glare towards Shane. "Are you deaf, dumb, or blind? I asked for a cake with black frosting, silver and red lettering that read 'Happy 35th Birthday, Matt!' and the 'Matt Hardy' logo on it. _Why_ is it lime green with _Tinkerbell and her fairy friends_ on it? _Why _does it say 'Happy 3rd Birthday, Maddie'?" Violet growled.

"I think he's all three." Isabella sighed. "I guess it's true, if you want something done right, a woman has to do it. Shannon, where's the presents?"

"I thought _you_ had them." He replied innocently.

Isabella sighed. "Idiots."

This started an uproar argument. The three who were being held up by the Brother's of Destruction were still there and were having a lengthy, and loud discussion about what punishment they deserved for ruining Kane's 'Masterpiece'. CM Punk was trying to get the helium from JoMo, but ended up inhaling it with the Intercontinental Champion. Violet and Isabella were lecturing Shane and Shannon about the ruined cake/presents and Matt…Matt just stood off to the side, amused and smiling. He soon broke out into laughter, which made everyone look at him.

Mark and Kane dropped their captives and when their captives attempted to run off, or in Adam's case, hobble off, they grabbed each by their respective collars and pulled them back with a 'oh no you don't' look. CM Punk and John stopped laughing and were gazing curiously at the elder Hardy. Violet, Isabella, Shane and Shannon had stopped arguing, and while Shane was distracted, Vio threw the cake in his face. "What are _you_ laughing at?" She asked.

"This is the _best_ birthday _ever_."

"Um, Matt, I'd hate to break it to you, but it's a disaster." Punk stated.

"I have all my friends around, that makes me happy. It doesn't matter if it's a complete mess, as long as I have my family. My dysfunctional, confusing, eccentric, age-bringing family." Matt smiled. "Group hug!"

Everyone smiled as they huddled up in a great big group hug. Then suddenly out of nowhere…

_Toot!_

Matt's face scrunched up. "Who farted?"

Kane looked sheepish as he bit his lip. "Sorry."


End file.
